


The Nerd and the Slacker

by thecolorsparkle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-10 06:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13496360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecolorsparkle/pseuds/thecolorsparkle
Summary: There's nothing more romantic than when opposites attract. There's nothing more irritating than Percy Weasley. There's no one more beautiful than Heather Remington. At Hogwarts, anything can happen- especially when hearts change, walls fall, and certain Prefects calm down. Read how Heather and Percy come together over the course of the school year and revel in the slow burn of it all.





	1. On The Train

The train whistled. The emerald engine chugga- chugged on the tracks, with the faces of mothers and fathers smiling and waving passing through the windows. Her own mother watched her stonily with her arms crossed, leaning against the wall. The memories of the summer haunted her—gone were the lazy summer days, gone were the persistent doctor visits she had to be dragged along on. Goodbye, summer. You will be missed.

It felt almost as if she should hold a small funeral service for the past few months. As the train pulled out of the station she watched as the first few trees appeared and took notice of the already-changing leaves. It was only September; those two yellow leaves on that passing oak made her want to vomit. Really, she should still be on her summer vacation. It went by so quickly it felt like she got home, took a nap, and then immediately had to pack again to go back to school. 

Part of her celebrated being able to see her friends again. Part of her mourned the chance to not see her mother every day. And another part of her felt disgusted that she had to wear her uniform daily again. Feeling the rumble of the train beneath her, she looked down at her normal clothes, a simple jean-and-shirt combination, and mentally ticked down the days until she could wear jeans again. Soon it would be replaced with a horrific plaid skirt, a starchy white button down, and a choking red-and-blue-striped tie. Blasted boarding school with its blasted uniform policy and rules and leaders, ugh—

She could hear the squeals of delight from everyone as they passed by her compartment. The usual “How do you do’s” and the “How was your summer’s” were being passed between everyone as the trading of summer adventures began. She had no adventures to share. She knew her own friends wouldn’t care about her summer. They probably travelled; they most likely jet skied and sang at karaoke nights with hotties they met at the beach. She could help but feel very woe is me. 

The door slid open suddenly. “Heather?”   
She looked up from the window, eyes empty and cold. Her long brown hair tumbled down her back in soft waves. She knew she was notorious around the school for never brushing her hair or caring enough to get regular trims, but hey—as long as her waves never ratted together then she was fine.

“Yes?” she intoned. 

“Can I sit with you?” 

She gestured to the empty seat across from her and he sat down. His bright curly hair nearly matched the red of the tie he had already changed into. 

“How was your summer?” 

“Fine.” Heather glanced at his chest. “Prefect?”

At Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy, a select few fifth year students could be rewarded with the Prefect Badge. They were responsible, usually made good grades, and were usually pig-headed brainiacs who didn’t know when to leave someone alone. Only ten or so people had the privilege of being a Prefect—the leadership role wasn’t what most people wanted to have, even though it looked good on a resume. 

He puffed his chest out proudly, like a prideful hen. “Yes I am.” The shiny badge glittered as though he just polished it. Which, knowing him, he probably just did. The idiot. 

“How wonderful.” Heather rolled her eyes. She wondered what he was doing there, in her compartment. She wanted to have a few minutes to herself before her friends showed up. She definitely didn’t want to see him out of all the people on this train.

“My youngest brother starts this year,” He said, possibly hoping for a conversation. His blue eyes were bright with hope. “You know, since Hogwarts starts with eleven year olds.”

“Fantastic.” He caught the sarcasm in her voice and winced. Worried creases appeared on his forehead but they disappeared before she could hardly register it.

“How... was your summer?” He asked nervously again. Heather didn’t answer, there was nothing worth sharing. He coughed awkwardly, making her lower her eyes. 

“So, are we going to resume our usual schedule?” he tried again.

“I don’t know, are we?” Heather turned her stare onto him. She raised an eyebrow. 

“I- uh, yes.” He leaned forward on his knees. 

“Then why did you even ask?” She sounded bored. She leaned forward, also, mimicking him. They were inches apart, not daring to move or say a word. There was a tense silence. For a brief second she felt time move around them while they were frozen. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek, sending sensational shivers down her spine. 

The door slid open once again, revealing a tall girl with blonde curly hair in the doorway. She looked in shock from the boy to Heather. They sprang apart when they both recognized her. 

“Percy Weasley, you sly dog! Were you, how they say, ‘making a move’ on our sweet Heather?” Erica Mayfield snorted as Percy turned red. A girl with shoulder length auburn hair peered over Erica’s shoulder and asked, “Have you two kissed yet? God!” 

“Alyssa,” Heather called out her friend, rolling her eyes. Percy turned even redder and the flush spread to his neck, which he rubbed ruefully.

“We were just discussing something private. I’ll leave you be.” Percy stood and awkwardly held his hand out to Heather. She shook it gently, her eyes never leaving his. The girls at the door moved aside so he could leave. “I expect to meet up soon, Heather.” He said without turning around. The two girls came into the compartment with wide eyes. They sat down, with Erica next to Heather and Alyssa across from them. 

“Tell. Us. Everything.” Alyssa put her chin in her hands. Heather yawned and stretched her legs across the seat. 

“You guys, nothing happened. He was just asking if—” 

“You’ll marry him. I’m right, aren’t I?” a petite Asian girl with short black hair appeared in the doorway. She grinned at the three girls sitting and promptly sat down next to Alyssa. 

“Yes, Tina, you’re absolutely right!” Heather rolled her eyes. “He came in here exactly to ask me for my hand in marriage, despite the fact that we’re both sixteen years old and can hardly drive with a driver’s license, let alone file for a marriage license. Can you please pull your head down from the clouds? You know, before I yank it down myself?”

Heather had a Muggle mother and a Wizard father; she lived in a Muggle community during the summers, and usually haunted her mother's doctor's offices. She had never met her father but her mother knew what he was and she wasn't surprised when Heather got her letter to Hogwarts. Escaping to the Wizarding world every school year was Heather's saving grace, and Hogwarts was more of her home than her little house.

Tina squealed excitedly, ignoring Heather’s threat, and punched Erica on the arm. “Ha! You owe me twenty sickles!”

“Tina, she was being sarcastic.” Erica rubbed her arm. “That hurt.” 

“Something DID happen between them, though.” Alyssa commented. She adjusted her skirt and tried to mimic the prim way that Heather was sitting. 

“You could just feel the sexual tension!” Erica dramatically flailed her arms around. Tina cackled into her palm.

Heather couldn’t help it. She grinned ever so slightly from the ridiculousness of it all. 

Tina gasped. “She’s smiling! Quick, everyone think about what stupid thing you did to make her do such a dastardly deed!”

Erica tapped Tina’s arm. “I believe you owe me ten sickles.”

Alyssa laughed and clapped her hands. “I can’t believe you two bet on Heather smiling!” 

“Correction: if she would smile before we got to Hogwarts.” Erica poked Heather. “Now back to Percy. Are you going to kiss him this year? What did he really want?”

“Nothing, I swear. He just wanted to know if we were going to, you know, continue our study sessions. And I don’t see him that way. Never have, never will, so when will you all drop it and move on?”

“Dearest Heather, we could never drop something like this. You know, now that I think about it… you’re the smartest in our grade. Well, second smartest, after Percy. Why would he offer to help you—unless…” A devilish smile appeared on Erica’s face. “He likes you.” 

“No shit, Sherlock.” Tina muttered. 

“Whatever, Tina. Good old Percy has a bit of a crush on you. And you have one on him. Don’t even try to deny it!” Erica quickly added when she saw Heather’s angry expression. “Just accept it, Heather.” 

“Yeah, why else would he even make you do the study sessions?” Alyssa wondered out loud. 

For once, nonsense didn’t come out of Alyssa’s mouth. The others realized that something had switched in Heather’s brain as she turned to the window to watch the countryside. They quickly changed the subject and started talking about summer gossip that they’ve already heard, gossip that Heather had little to care about and no reason to listen to. But there was one thing that kept going around in her mind… and that was the semi-intelligent thing that Alyssa had brought up. 

Why did Percy keep making her go to study sessions with him when he knew she didn’t need the extra help? He’s always done it, ever since they first met at Hogwarts, but it was like she was just now realizing how odd it was. He didn’t study with anyone else and he got furiously irate when she skipped the almost daily study sessions. She got straight A’s without studying. It was something that infuriated him, she knew it, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care about much in general. She would much rather float through life without causing too much trouble in the lives around her.

Heather decided to leave it alone for now and to just focus on the train ride. She tried her best to listen as Erica animatedly told a story about something that happened on her vacation to France but her mind kept slipping back to Alyssa’s point: why did Percy have such an interest in her school habits?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Hi! I'm new to the AO3 community and I'm still getting used to the layout of the website. I wrote this story ages ago when I was in high school and then rewrote the majority of it last year-- the funny thing is that I can see the influences of my younger writing habits show up in this first little prologue alone, while my recently acquired writing habits show up in the later chapters. Yes, I said chapters! This story is mostly finished already so I'll be posting chapters weekly if my schedule permits it. 

Does anyone else love Percy Weasley fanfics? Percy is one of my favorite characters in HP and the whole trope of a "nerd" falling in love with a "slacker" has always had a soft spot in my heart. I figured that Percy would be a great fit for this concept~ and here we are! 

This is a slow burn romance with a fair amount of drama. I live for it. I love it. This is my baby that I've played with since I was roughly sixteen and almost five years later, here it is. Please enjoy The Nerd and the Slacker! Leave a comment if you liked it, or kudos, or whatever, I'm still learning. Thank you for reading!


	2. September

Percy Weasley. The most un-fun, uptight, rule loving pompous brat the world has ever known. It's a wonder how his family tolerated him. Heather certainly couldn’t.  
Percy and Heather didn’t exactly get along. He strived for rules and logic and making sure everything was perfect, while she quite frankly didn’t give a rat’s ass for anything. He had always seemed to be appalled by her look on life so he apparently had taken it upon himself to assert himself into her business as much as possible to make sure she’s like him. This meant checking her homework for all her classes, frequently asking how her day was going at random intervals, and offering to help with practically everything.

Saying that it was annoying would be an understatement.

Heather couldn’t help but realize how mind numbingly irritating he was while she was talking to her friends, waiting for Potions to start, when she heard the very voice that made her cringe. 

"Students, keep in line! Go on, budge up there!" A flash of red hair came into her peripheral field of vision. Oh, great. There he was.

"Look, Heather, it's your favorite person," Erica sniggered. She flipped her curls over her shoulder and smirked at the ginger. Luckily he was too busy trying to tell a Quidditch player to get in line (which wasn’t going so well, considering the Beater was nearly twice his size) to notice.

"Maybe he'll ask you to listen to him again," Alyssa whispered. The other girls cackled wildly. “Remember last time? During dinner time? You ate your whole dinner while he was rambling on and on and on—”

"How much you wanna bet? Twenty sickles?" Tina nudged Erica, who already had her coin bag out to make a bet. "Everyone knows Percy fancies you." She glanced at the prowling ginger moving down the line, now doing uniform checks. All the students in line were giving Heather and Percy knowing looks as he moved closer to them. 

"The nerd who's in love with the slacker! What a beautiful combination." Erica chimed in. A cough behind Heather made them all turn around, startled. Erica immediately blushed, but the person who interrupted them luckily didn’t hear the conversation. 

"Excuse me, get in line!" Percy appeared behind Heather. His tall and lanky body provided a contrast between her short frame and him. “Your shirt isn’t tucked in.”

“Why are you checking out my waist?” Heather turned around and muttered, "And who is it who's being bossy?" 

Tina and Erica laughed. Heather raised an eyebrow at them and they all cackled at Percy. 

“I— I am. I'm a Prefect." 

"And?" Heather waited to see if he’d say anything else. Chances are that's his reasoning on why she should listen to him. 

"And I asked you to please step in line and to tuck your shirt in. You have to follow the rules." 

"I have to?"

There was a silence in which Percy's ears turned red. Everyone had stopped talking to watch the interaction, even the Quidditch players. Someone even gasped when Heather spoke. A pin could have been dropped and it would have been louder than Percy opening and closing his mouth wordlessly.

"Heather, may I speak to you in private?" Percy finally forced out after a few moments of tangible silence. Heather rolled her eyes as Tina and Erica laughed again. Conversations slowly started up again as she followed him to an empty classroom, and when she glanced back once again at her friends she watched as Tina pocketed what she was sure to be a few sickles. When the door was closed, she turned to Percy with her arms crossed and her hard stare trained solely on him.

"Percy, what is it?" she was forced to ask after a few more seconds of silence, silence so real and there that she could have reached out and touched it.

"I- I- I-" He gulped. "Want to a-ask if you'd respect me as a Prefect." 

Heather raised an eyebrow. "Is that it?" 

"I- I- What?" Percy flushed and then tried to harden his stare to mimic hers. “I mean, I demand respect because I am a Prefect. I was chosen to be a student leader and thus I deserve the respect."

"I said, is that it? Are you going to say anything else?" She stepped closer to the door. Maybe he would take a hint and move; but of course he just backed up so the door handle is pressing into his back. Snape was going to give her detention if she was late for Potions again.

"Are you going to listen to me and follow the rules?" Percy pressed back against the door again. His eyes bored into hers. 

"No." She frowned. "When do I ever listen to the rules? Percy, you've known me since we were first years. I don't see why you think that you're different." She stepped even closer to him. "Now if you don't mind, I have to go to class. I've got Potions." 

Percy moved out of her way. Heather opened the door, about to leave, but at the last second she turned back and faced him. The shock in his eyes astounded her—perhaps he was shocked from how close he was, or how her sleeve was brushing his. Maybe it was from the close proximity, or maybe it was from Erica’s claims that he had feelings for her ringing in her ears, but she couldn't stop herself when she put her hand on his arm and said, "You're... cute when you're flustered."

Appalled even at her own self, Heather turned and left the room without a second glance. She didn’t want to see his face after she said that; she didn’t want to even think about the consequences of what she just said. Heather didn’t even have feelings for him! She walked quickly down the corridor before she realized that Percy had Potions with her. And that he was her partner. And that she’d known him all her life and had never said anything like that at all to him.

What a joy this will be! The girls were right about Percy; they always were. But Percy wasn't that bad when he loosened up a bit. During one of his forced study sessions, he told a joke. Once. Okay, it was a while ago and it wasn’t even funny, but that doesn’t matter. He tried. It was earlier this year, during the first week of term, when she first noticed that he cared about her… just like how the girls said he did.

"Why don't you ever smile?" He had asked after a few seconds. She remembered this day distinctly—it was the same day when he actually gave her detention for not tucking her shirt in and still forced a study session. He nonchalantly fiddled with his pen but she saw right through him—she knew he was nervous about how she would respond to such a personal question. He knew she didn’t like people prying into her life.

"Why do you act like a pompous brat?" She retorted. She crossed her arms and stared at Percy. His horn rimmed glasses glinted in the candle light. He frowned. 

"Heather, as a Prefect, I require respect—“ 

"And we both know that's not gonna happen." 

He gave her a look. She gave him one back. 

“Heather,” he tried again. “I know about your family and how-" 

She slammed her hands on the table, earning a stern look from the librarian, Madam Pince, and pushed herself close to his freckled face. 

“You will NOT, under any circumstances, bring up my family again. Do you understand?" She was thisfreakingclose to Percy. She could see herself in the reflection of his eyes. She could see every freckle, every curl in his red hair. 

“I— yes." Percy seemed shocked at her outburst. She stood up and gathered her things.

"This session is over." Heather sneered at Percy, and then stormed out of the library. 

She came back to reality as she entered the Potions dungeon. She didn’t want to be there, she didn’t want to be around the same students who saw the episode outside the classroom— and she really didn’t want to sit through a two hour class with Percy in the same room.

Professor Snape, a mean-spirited teacher who delighted in causing mental anguish in his students, glanced up at Heather and drawled, “Detention, Miss Remington, for being late to class. Now sit down and get to work." 

She said nothing as she went to her table to unpack her Potions ingredients. Erica and Tina whispered at the next table over; Alyssa grinned cheerily at her. She glanced at the board with the instructions for the assignment. The mixture for today was a… love potion? 

A love potion? Was Snape serious? Surely this was a joke. Maybe it was just a form of busy work because Snape hated teaching and would rather sit and watch students make a so-called “love potion”. And… oh God, Percy was her partner. Percy was her partner. Just kill her now.

The door opened and Heather heard the familiar squeak of Percy's dress shoes. He put his stuff down at the table he shared with Heather and glanced at her before he walked up to Snape and whispered something, to which Snape nodded too. As Heather got the supplies ready, Percy read over the instructions thoroughly. Speech was not needed as they added the ingredients— crushed beetles, straight fructose, and essence of vanilla. Heather turned the ladle occasionally, closely supervised by Percy. 

"Percy, for God's sake, I can't work with you watching like that!" she murmured and whirled to look at him. He was so close she could see her reflection in his eyes. "Back up a bit." 

The other students heard her whisper-shout at him and turned to watch. Everyone shared knowing glances once again as Percy reared up for his attack.  
Sure enough, Percy frowned. "Back up a bit? I'm just making sure you don't add the wrong ingredients!" He snatched the ladle from Heather. He added lavender oil and stirred three times. 

"Percy! Give me back that ladle!" She grabbed his hand. He paused, shocked that her slender hand was over his. She took her hand away with a start and grabbed for the ladle. Tina smirked at the quarrel between the two and nudged Erica to watch. Erica rolled her eyes and got out her wallet again.

"What is this foolishness?" Snape drawled as he strode up to their table. Heather gave a nasty look to Percy. He awkwardly held the ladle behind his back. By now the entire class was watching the escapade, leaving their potions to burn over the flames. 

“Nothing, sir.” Heather said in mock sweetness. “Percy was just about to give me the ladle when you walked up to the table.” Percy gave her a dirty look. She responded with one just as dirty, if not more nasty.

“Mr. Weasley, give Miss Remington back the ladle and get back to work. The love potion is due by the end of class.” Snape glided like an overgrown bat back to his desk.

“Your potions should be a lavender color by now,” He addressed to the class. Everyone jumped and pretended to work, trying (and failing) to tear their eyes from the bickering couple. “It should have a very distinct smell that’s different for everyone. And don’t forget that if you spill the potion, it will stain your clothes. It’s a melanin-altering formula—meaning it’ll change the proteins that causes the color in your skin or hair. With that being said, if you spill it, it will be there for a very, very long time.” 

Heather and Percy's potion was the perfect shade of lavender, and she could distinctly smell three different things: the scent of vanilla, of fresh lilies, and of… Percy Weasley? 

Maybe it was because he was so close to her; that’s why she could smell him. It was a mixture of fresh leather, books, and clean soap; the distinct smell of the pompous Prefect. She quickly dismissed the crazy notion and turned to face him to ask if he wanted her to take the small vial up to be graded. 

Except… Percy's foot was where hers needed to be in order to grab the vial, and she accidentally bumped into him as she reached for the vial to take the potion up to Snape.  
And when she bumped into him, she fell spectacularly, somehow managing to bring the various ingredients and ladles with her... and the potion as well.

All over her hair.

Heather immediately felt a tingling sensation in her scalp. It spread all over there head as she registered the intense smell of vanilla all over her robes. She picked up the ends of her long brown hair just in time to see a wave of pink flowing through her hair. What—? How—? She quickly dropped the lock of hair as though it were on fire. 

Percy gave a shout as he looked down to help her up. Snape looked up from his desk and a flicker of shock passed over his face. The rest of the class looked back at the table. Percy helped her up gently, the potion getting on his palms. She whimpered, and ran a hand through her pink hair. It was pink. It was spreading, she could see— once the original streak had touched the rest of her hair it spread like wild fire. She was dripping in the potion, her clothes were stained and there were pink spots on her hands. And her hair. Not that she didn’t mind pink, but she just… Oh, God, her hair was pink. 

The rest of the class gasped when they saw her hair. How could they not? It practically glowed in the dim light. Heather stood, shaking a little. 

“Miss Remington, what did I say about the potion staining your clothes?” The overgrown bat swooped to their table. He stood and tapped his foot, saying, “You’ll have to order a new set of robes.”  
“With all due respect, sir,” she muttered. “My clothes are the least of my worries.” She grabbed onto the table to support herself. She was a little woozy from shock.

“Did you ingest any of it?”

“N—no, sir.”

“Then I see nothing wrong.” Snape smirked. “Weasley, take her to the nurse. She looks like she’s about to be sick.” 

Heather stared at the teacher in horror as he walked back to his desk. He said nothing about the hair, nothing about how she was in literal shock. Percy grabbed her arm and led her out of the dungeons before she could say another word.

“Don’t say anything that’ll upset him. He’ll just punish you.” Percy murmured as they stumbled into the hallway. “He’s nothing but a bully. You’ll be fine.”

“No shit, Percy.” The realization of the situation finally hit her as they made it up to the main floor. It’s pink. 

“Language, Heather.”

“Shut the hell up, Percy.”  
“Heather!”  
“Percy.”

He gave her a look, but by that time they were at the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey glanced up as they entered the wing.

“Who’s the sick one, eh?” She chirped. Percy pushed Heather forward. Heather glared at him and he backed away from her before she could hit him. 

“Well,” She said, glaring at Percy. She pushed a lock of hair behind an ear as she continued. “Some love potion splashed my hair and now it’s… pink. I was wondering if maybe you had something I could take to make my hair brown again.”

"She also needs something for shock," Percy said softly and she threatened daggers with her eyes.

Madam Pomfrey put a stack of parchment in her desk before she responded. “Did the Professor say anything about it? Love potions stain; Snape was required to alert me to the ingredients being used in case anyone had the bright idea of investing it. It’s melanin-altering, correct? It’ll be very hard to make it brown again, even if you used a dye of some sort.” She reached out to touch Heather’s hair and she flinched. Percy cocked his head at this. Heather ignored him as Madame Pomfrey observed her hair. “Maybe if I give you a hair coloring potion…” she walked off in search of the medication. 

“Percy!” Heather growled once the nurse was out of sight. “How dare you just stand there, without a care in the world…” She walked right up to him and continued to chastise him in the errors in his way. But Percy wasn’t listening. He was captivated with how… alive she looked. Her eyes were livid, her cheeks were flushed. Even though she was righteously furious, he noticed a fire come alive in her eyes—something he’d never seen before. She was radiant in beauty, glowing with life and feeling and glorious fury. 

“Percy, are you even listening to me?!” Heather waved a hand in front of his face. Even her name was beautiful— Heather. He loved how it just rolled off his tongue whenever he said it. “Percy, if you weren’t in my way back in class, then my hair wouldn’t be pink right now! Ugh, you are such an idiot!”  
Percy frowned, suddenly back on earth at the insult. “Excuse me; did you just call me an idiot?” Perhaps he heard her wrong. 

“Yes, Percy, I did!” He didn’t. 

“Oh, enough of this squabbling! You two can take your lover’s spat outside when I’m through with you!” Madam Pomfrey came back with a steaming beaker of God know’s what. Percy and Heather turned red and mumbled over each other.

“She’s just a friend-”

“Not even friends, I don’t even like him—!”

“She’s insufferable, really—”

“Will you shut up for once?”

“Oh, hush! Here, drink this, and we should see the results in approximately two minutes. If it doesn’t help, then you will just have to wait until the pink fades.”

Heather all but snatched the beaker from Madam Pomfrey's hands. She gulped down the mixture; it tasted like peppermint and basil. She winced and decided that she would probably never be able to eat a sweet peppermint or a caprese salad without remembering this exact moment.

“If it doesn’t work…” Heather said slowly as she handed the beaker back to Madame Pomfrey, “Then how long should it take to fade?”

“I’m not sure, dearie.” Madam Pomfrey took the beaker from her and set a timer for two minutes, and refused to look at her. “We’ll just have to see.” She bustled off to her office.  
Heather turned slowly to face Percy. She was still furious, he could tell. Especially now that the mixture could possibly not work. Which, Percy considered, he could see why she would be upset. He moved back behind a bed so she couldn’t reach him, because he was sure she would try to kill him if he happened to be in range.

Those two minutes were the longest minutes of both of their lives. She waited anxiously and hoped that her hair would be normal once more. Percy still stood behind a bed, like an idiot, and he moved from one foot to the other. The silence was nearly suffocating to him—he couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t directly end with him in some sort of pain. He held his face in his hands, thinking that if he didn't look at her, then she wouldn't be mad at him. If he couldn't see the anger, then it didn't exist. 

The timer suddenly rang, a clear and curt noise, and he still didn't look up. He heard Madame Pomfrey came back from her office, probably carrying a mirror and he heard her stop dead in her tracks. 

Percy's heart sank. That couldn’t be good.

Heather grabbed the mirror Madame Pomfrey held and gazed into it. Her reflection stared back at her with her hair an even more shocking pink than before—but now, instead of her having a few streaks here and there, her whole entire head was magenta. Tears sprang to her eyes as she pushed the mirror back at Madame Pomfrey. 

Percy noticed the pain on her face and felt his own heart hurt. He knew it was his fault. It was all his fault. His foot was in the way because he was trying to smell her, for her scent (the smell of vanilla) was what he smelled in the love potion. He was only trying to make sure that his nose wasn’t lying, and now— now Heather had a head full of pink hair. Oh, what had he done? 

“It will fade. Maybe.” Madam Pomfrey tried to comfort Heather. She patted her back, obviously out of pity. Heather turned from her abruptly and said shakily, “Thank you for your help.”

She left the hospital wing without another word; Percy followed her when he decided it was safe and she wouldn’t hit him. They walked in silence back to the Potions classroom until he stopped and grabbed her arm. 

“Heather?”

“What, Percy?” She shook him off.

“Maybe I should go in there and turn in our work.” He brushed some (pink) hair out of her eyes. “You should go up to the dorm to get ready for dinner.”

She looked up at him, and stared into his eyes to try and see if he was trying to play a joke on her. She knew that he didn’t want her to go back in there with Snape for fear of her temper. And besides, he must have known that she wasn’t ready to see the rest of the school with her hair. Heather didn’t question Percy's motives, whether it was for Snape’s sake or hers, and turned to leave. She was halfway down the corridor when he called, “And Heather?”

She looked back at him over her shoulder.

He grinned. “I like the pink.” 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi there! Still figuring out this website. I can't figure out how to italicize words because I'm a garbage, computer illiterate person. But it's okay. Just put the emphasis there yourself-- if you're an excellent reader of people then you can probably decipher it. You're so brilliant. I know you can. 

October will come soon, thank you for reading! Leave a comment and a kudos if you liked it. Have a great day!


	3. October

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Month of October; there is a Halloween Dance (because WHY NOT) and Heather enjoys a rather awkward encounter with Percy. It's fun. I promise. There is even a ~romantic encounter~ between the two.

October  
The weather noticeably turned cold as the winter months approached. Snow was nearly inevitable at Hogwarts— the winds were harsh and every morning started with a light frost over the windows. The corridors got steadily colder with every day. Winter was quickly arriving and with it, Halloween. 

Heather ate breakfast a week before Halloween—she enjoyed a banana and coffee on most days, a muffin if she wanted to feel special— when Erica sat down with a flump next to her. Alyssa and Tina sat across from them. 

“You three aren’t allowed to sit at the Gryffindor tables,” Heather said wearily. She told them every morning but they didn’t seem to care. Or pretend to notice. 

“I heard that we could dress up for Halloween.” Erica announced. She pulled a bowl of oatmeal to her and ignored what Heather said. Heather rolled her eyes as she took a sip of coffee. 

“I heard that too,” Alyssa tossed in her two cents. “I wanna go as a cat.” She fluffed her short auburn hair. “An unlucky one!”

“Dumbledore's supposed to announce it at dinner.” Tina said. “There’s also going to be a party in the cafeteria after the dinner on Halloween.” She smirked at Heather. “You should go with Percy.” 

Heather made no response. None was needed. She knew they were just trying to get a rise out of her.

“I think that Heather should go as a fairy. Her eyes could be perfect for one.” Alyssa brushed aside some of Heather’s long pink hair. “And her hair. It’s almost magical.”

“That’s because it is magical, and I am not dressing up for anything.” Heather pulled her hair away from Alyssa’s grasp. “And I don’t like Percy.” 

“Oh, come on, Heather! Denial is the first step to admitting that you love him!” Tina exclaimed. There was a gleam in her eyes that made Heather feel uneasy. “We could curl your hair and put glitter on you and whip you up a pretty dress that matches your eyes!” 

“And make fairy wings!” Erica squealed excitedly. Heather moaned aloud at the idiocy of it all. 

“No.” Heather glared at Tina. Her gray eyes hardened. Tina took the sign and dropped the subject. Someone behind them coughed softly to let their presence known. Heather didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. 

“Morning, Heather,” Percy Weasley sat down next to her and pulled a plate of eggs to him to eat. “You girls aren’t supposed to sit here. These are the Gryffindor tables.” He directed this at the Ravenclaw and two Hufflepuffs.   
The three of them smiled at Percy and indicated that they weren’t going to move. Percy sighed and said to Heather, “Did you sleep well?” 

“Well enough.” Heather grumbled. Alyssa nudged her and smirked in Percy's direction. Heather scowled. 

“We’ll meet in the library today for our session.” Percy told her. He put a napkin in his lap. “Don’t be late this time.”

“Whatever, Percy.” 

“As a Prefect—” 

“No one gives a damn about you being a Prefect.” Heather growled. She stood and grabbed her bag. “I have to go.”

The whole group stared at her as she stormed away. Heather heard the footsteps of someone who ran after her, but she didn’t look back until she was in the entrance hall. She turned quickly, and turned smack into whoever chased her. 

“My head,” she mumbled, on the ground where she fell, holding her forehead in her hand. She looked up and saw none other than Percy Weasley standing above her. “Ugh, Percy, what do you want?” 

“I merely wished to see if you were ok. You looked upset back there.” Percy held his hand out. Of course, there he was, sounding like a pompous idiot who just wanted to insert himself into yet another part of her life. She denied his help and stood up on her own. Her hair was disheveled and her red and blue tie was crooked, but she didn’t care at this point. Why would she care? She was with Percy. Percy didn’t matter.

“I’m fine, just leave me alone,” Heather said as she moved away from him. She hit the door that led to the outside with her back and she quickly turned the handle. The Hogwarts grounds were expansive and stretched on for a while— she could get lost on purpose quite easily if she so wanted to. Her footsteps crunched with each step on the partly frozen grass, and the sound slightly comforted her. She heard the crunches behind her that belonged to Percy, the Boy Who Never Listens. He caught up to her and grabbed her elbow. 

“Heather—”

“Percy, I thought I told you to leave me alone.” Heather whirled around; her pink hair swirled around her face. 

“You did, but—” 

“Then that means to leave me alone,” Heather snapped. Her face was still blank, though— not at all matching the emotion in her voice. 

“Look, Heather, I’m just trying to help. There’s no need to push everyone away.” Percy turned to walk back inside. Maybe today wasn’t the day to try and crack open her tough outer shell. But then again, said a nasty voice in his head, would there ever be a day for such business as that?

“Wait.” 

Percy stopped dead in his tracks. Heather’s voice was suddenly softer and much more innocent sounding. It wasn’t harsh or bland or devoid of emotion—it was open, willing to share. He could feel the apprehension in her very soul, yet he didn’t dare turn around. He knew how she felt about him; if she saw his face then she would never say what she was going to say. He waited for her to speak.

“My mother… my mother isn’t well. She has a….” She glanced at the lake behind her. “My mother isn’t a witch. She’s not like you or I. She’s always been sickly, even growing up, and she’s had to live with my grandmother since May of this year. She has to go to a number of doctors’ visits weekly; that’s how I spent my summer. She was actually getting better for the first time in forever and she was doing fine, better then she’s been in years— but I got a message from my grandmother this morning that said her health had started to decline rapidly and she might not make till next summer.” 

Percy had turned around to see her by this point, shocked at her story. A tear glistened in her gray eyes and his thumb burned with the desire to simply wipe it off. “My dad was a wizard. It’s why I’m at Hogwarts, why I have my powers. He left when I was an infant. We haven’t heard from him since then. I have no other family.”

She paused, and looked up at the clear sky above her. A bird chirped merrily in the trees somewhere, the fish rustled in the waters of the lake behind them. Her smooth skin was radiant in the morning sunlight. Her hair shone and Percy found that he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight in front of him.

“Heather, I— I didn’t know.” Percy reached for her apprehensively; he knew how she felt about being touched. But to his surprise she rushed to him and hugged him. Hard. Percy hugged her back and tried to soothe her, tried to understand her. This girl— this girl who hid herself from others, even her so called friends— opened up to him. She bottled up her emotions and kept them to herself so no one can see or hear them. She refused to let anyone know what happened in her heart. She was a guarded person.

Ever since he met her, Percy had always compared Heather Remington to a block of marble. She was cold and seemingly unchangeable, but after one chipped away, slowly and carefully, there was something special underneath. One just had to chip away a little at a time, until something beautiful emerged from the hard stone that surrounded it. 

That’s why she was like stone. She’s afraid of getting hurt— of someone using the wrong tools and hurting her accidentally. She was afraid of being broken.

“I’m here, Heather.” Percy whispered to her head. He smoothed her hair with his hand.

“I know,” she whispered. She tightened her grip around him. “I know.”

…

“Heather, are you getting dressed up or not?” 

Tina took a minuscule break from applying copious amounts of makeup to herself to poke Heather, who swatted her hand away without looking up. Tina rolled her eyes and went back to drawing extensive cat eyes on her eyelids— she was dressed as an Egyptian princess. The spacious bathroom was littered with makeup tubes and jars, the room was richly scented with different perfumes. 

Heather turned the page of the book she was reading, side stepping her question. “Why are you posing like a person of color from Egypt?”

“Oh, Heather, enough of that crap! Don’t ruin another costume for me!” Tina pouted. “Besides,” she added, as an afterthought, “Cleopatra was definitely a witch. I mean, who else could be such a competent and beautiful queen and still be remembered to this day? I bet she enchanted everyone around her.”

“Or maybe she was just a good ruler,” Heather mumbled halfheartedly. She wasn’t in the mood to argue with Tina, who had lost interest in the conversation and carefully lined her lips with red lipstick.

“Heather, you have to! We all are!” Alyssa exclaimed as she drew on whiskers and a black nose on her pale cheeks with eyeliner. She wore a black dress and made a black headband with cat ears on it. 

“Please Heather?” Erica said amongst a loud jingling sound, her hands clasped together in a begging position. Her gypsy costume didn’t match her pale skin or curly blonde hair, but she still looked lovely in it. The small metal coins that hung off her skirt and wrists jingled whenever she moved. Heather held back her comments about more cultural appropriation, knowing they would be met with equal insults.

“I don’t have a costume even if I did want to dress up.” Heather turned another page. Really, she had no interest in dressing up for a communal gathering that celebrated masks and deception to ward of evil spirits. Ever since her hair became pink she especially tried to worm her way out of being seen in public—she pretty much only left the dorm for class and for mealtimes. And she had literally no desire to go to a party. And if Percy were there… that would be it for her and it would convince her to never leave her room again.

Heather, so caught up in her internal monologue, missed the smile shared between Tina and Erica.

“Oh, that’s okay, we already made you one!” Tina slyly leaned against the door to her closet. Heather glanced up from her book as she opened it and pulled out a dress: a short and silver thing, its layers actually fluttered like it was alive sparkled in the bright firelight of the room. It was simple yet elegant and its soft glittering appeal made Heather suddenly yearn to touch the material to see if it would slide over her fingers like water.

“Tina, I—” Heather found that she couldn’t make words with her mouth. Her surprise was so great her mouth hung open slightly.

“And that’s not even the best part,” Erica grinned. She nodded at Tina, who also pulled out a set of wings. The wings were a sheer silver with veins, like real fairy’s wings, and they flapped delicately as though they breathed. They must be enchanted with magic, for sure. They must have used a tricky branch of magic to achieve the high level of difficulty they probably used. The wings were beautiful. 

“Tina, Erica… I can’t even—” Heather gazed at the dress and wings before her. 

“And there’s this!” Alyssa pulled a wreath out of her trunk. It was also silver and it had enchanted birds that twittered and sang perched on the woven wreath. There were flowers and ribbons clustered around the enchanted birds. 

“Alyssa!” Heather gasped, shocked by how much her friends had put into this. She didn’t think her friends appreciated her that much—a sad and silly thought to have, now that she thought about it. Of course her friends would adore her—why wouldn’t they?

“We all thought that maybe you should put aside the crankiness in your life and have some fun for once.” Erica said proudly. She held out her arms, jingling like a bag full of loose change while in her gypsy costume. Heather ran to her nonetheless and wrapped her arms across her friends back. 

“And so you could get a certain Prefect's attention.” Tina smiled. Heather didn’t even chastise her friend. Instead she turned and gave Tina a hug with tears in her eyes. 

Alyssa held out her arms and jumped up and down excitedly. “Hug me too!”

Heather complied and hugged her friend, the happiness almost overbearing. She wasn’t used to this—feeling this overjoyed that she could cry. A smile tugged at her lips, but Heather bit her tongue to keep it from escaping. 

“Get dressed!” Tina said, and wiped a tear from her eye. “The dance is in a few minutes and we need to do your hair and makeup!” she tossed the dress at Heather and she slipped it on. It fit perfectly, like it was made to grace over her hips with ease.

Erica pulled Heather over to the mirror that had all of the makeup and hair supplies on the vanity. She French braided Heather’s hair and pinned little jeweled dragonflies in the long braid.

“I still can’t believe your hair is pink,” Alyssa said, glancing over as she adjusted her cat ears in the mirror next to Heather. “It’s been nearly two months since it happened!”

“I think it’s gotten even brighter.” Heather sighed and reached up to touch the pink locks. Her hair will never be brown again. Alyssa did her makeup, mostly shimmery silver eye stuff and light pink lipstick, and she brushed some loose glitter onto her shoulders to complete the fairy effect.

Tina held out the wings and Heather gladly accepted the help in sliding the straps on. She looked in the mirror and saw a real, live fairy staring back at her. Her wings opened and closed lazily, like there was something better they could be doing, and Heather was somewhat astounded at how ethereal she looked.

“Heather, you look so beautiful!” Alyssa cried. She fluffed her auburn hair and grinned. “You outshine the rest of us!” 

“We got her dressed and painted in less than five minutes. That’s got to be a record.” Erica joked, checking her watch. 

Tina held open the door to the junior girl’s dorm. “Shall we?” 

The girls trouped down the corridor towards the Great Hall, laughing and chattering at the tops of their lungs, but Heather stayed behind to look one last time in the mirror. 

I hope this doesn’t change anything, Heather thought to herself as she wrenched the door open to walk down the corridor. She never associated with her classmates. She hardly participated in class or went to Quidditch games, let alone dressed up for Halloween. Heather knew she wasn’t overreacting, though— the students at Hogwarts were the most gossip-minded and and sharp-eyed individuals the world had known. Who knew what people would say when they saw her dressed like this?

It wasn’t that she cared about people thought—it was more of the fact that ever since her hair turned pink, she became increasingly aware at how much she was becoming the center of attention. It wasn’t anything she was doing—it was the sheer vibrancy of the shade of her hair. And she did not—did not— feel comfortable when everyone’s eyes are on her. That was why her pink hair bothered her so much. It attracted too much attention. 

All of these thoughts went through her head as she stepped down the corridor barefooted. She could hear the thumping beat of the latest Potion Sipper’s song playing in the Great Hall. Her heart beat the same way: thump- the- thump- the- thump. She opened the door to the Great Hall gently, not wanting to draw attention. She quietly stepped in the Hall, closed the door behind her and turned around. 

A fair amount of people stared at her when they heard the creak of the Great Hall door. Some of the boys who looked over dropped their jaws and the girls were equally as shocked. Heather’s heart sank and she immediately knew she shouldn’t have dressed up or gone to the party. Whispers spread around the room like wildfire. She shrunk into the door and tried to find the door handle without taking her eyes off of the crowd writhing on the dance floor. 

“Heather!” 

Heather felt a tug on her arm and felt a great wave of relief wash over her when she saw it was Tina. She was yanked over to the tables. The students who surrounded her slowly looked away, but many kept their eyes on her. Heather glanced around at the dancing and laughing students and felt uneasy. 

“Heather, we have someone for you to meet!” Tina pushed her to the end of a table. “Wait here,” she commanded and bustled off into the crowd without a backwards glance. 

“Wait, Tina!” Heather stared apprehensively after Tina. She glanced up at the ceiling and saw that it was enchanted with tiny glowing stars and nebulas. The moon was a huge orb that hung in the sky, and the stars twinkled merrily around the moon like happy little toddlers. It was quite lovely and made Heather wish to be outside in the chilly air. She was so entranced with the ceiling that she didn’t hear the footsteps that approached her. A gasp made her lower her head from her gaze at the ceiling. 

There stood Percy, in all of his Prefect glory. He wore a long black cape with a raised collar and a crisp white buttoned shirt; obviously a Muggle vampire. He stood a few yards from where Heather stood with his mouth agape as his eyes took in Heather. Erica loomed behind him and sniggered at Percy behind his back. 

“Well, I’ll just leave you two alone. Don’t have too much fun, you hear?” Erica smirked and left, the coins on her skirt clinking away while she disappeared into the crowd. Heather glanced at Percy, who still stood like an idiot a few feet from her. 

“Percy?” 

He shook his head, almost coming to. “Heather.” He nodded curtly, back to his normal self. “I trust you’re fine?”

Heather cocked an eyebrow. “I guess.”

“You look nice.” He stated bluntly. He walked over and sat on the table next to her.

“Thanks,” Heather brushed some hair behind her ear and glanced up at the ceiling again. Was this the only reason why her friends made her costume? Instead of making it out of love and affection, they made it for this moment alone. She crossed her ankles in minor anger, her black flats reflecting the faux moonlight. Was this a set up? 

The silence that sat between her and Percy was wider than the literal space that was between them. She didn’t even notice it at first—at first she looked at the ceiling and vaguely listened to the Potion Sipper’s song that played. But then she remembered where she was with a jolt and looked over to see Percy looking at her. The last time they were this close was the conversation they had on the grounds, when he held her close and promised that he was near. Her cheeks flushed and she felt the need to explain the meaning behind her walls coming down so easily. 

“Listen, I—”

“I wanted to ask-”

“Oh, sorry, what was that—?”

“You can—”

They both paused awkwardly.

Percy blushed. “Sorry, you go first.” 

Heather fiddled with the hem of her dress and sat up straighter. “Listen, I wanted to… apologize, I suppose, for earlier this week. I didn’t mean to dump all of my problems on you like how I did. It wasn’t my place at all to do so.” She glanced up at him and saw the flicker of concern in his eyes.

“Heather, it’s alright.” Percy reached out to grab her arm and she flinched and drew her body away from his. He frowned slightly. “You can tell me anything.”

“I can tell you—?”

“Anything, yes,” Percy finished for her. He smiled haphazardly and pushed his glasses up his nose. 

Heather didn’t know what to say to that. She’d never had anyone tell her that before, not even her friends. Her mother was too ill for her to talk on a constant basis, her friends never had conversations that were deeper than casual gossip and complaints about schoolwork. This made her feel… different. She wasn’t sure if it was a good feeling or not and prayed silently it was.

“Would you care to dance?” Percy stood and gestured to the dance floor. The song had changed to a slow song, probably the only slow song the Potion Sipper’s ever wrote, and the lead singer crooned and warbled over a piano melody. It was one of her favorite songs.

“Is this…” Heather listened closely to the piano plinking on the stage. “Is this… When I Stole the Stars?” She squinted up at Percy. “Sung by Celeste Bellum?”

“I- I think so.” Percy shuffled his feet nervously. He held out his hand. Heather took it cautiously and allowed him to lead her out onto the dance floor where all the couples were slow dancing. Percy placed his hand around her waist. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, bringing them closer together. She watched Percy gulp nervously. Her eyes were glued onto his as they swayed to the music with the song’s slow pace. The song, written by the lead singer when she fell in love with someone she was forbidden to see, always made Heather wonder if that was what true love actually felt like.

“My love, my dearest, I chased the summer sunset and  
Followed the yearning of my dreams.  
I saw the sky fall down,  
When at last I saw the stars fall down—  
Turns out I never stole them in the first place.”

The song always made Heather feel somewhat sad and… a strange want to have a love as devastating and hopeless as Celeste Bellum’s love story. She and Percy swayed from side to side in the slow tempo of the music. The piano melody slowed again and Heather and Percy swayed one last time before the singer gave her last crooning note as the piano’s sound continued to twirl. They were closer than before.

“Percy?” She whispered. Her gray eyes watched his blue ones without looking away. He was transfixed by her stare, and she found that she couldn’t look away as well. 

“Yes?” 

He spoke with hardly a breath. 

“What were you going to tell me?” 

Percy stared at her. “What do you mean?” 

Heather rolled her eyes. “You were going to ask me something before. What was it?” 

Percy blushed once more. He shrugged and said, “I don’t know what you’re speaking about.” He spun her around. “After this song would you care to go on a walk with me?”

Heather frowned. “I suppose, though I’d rather you tell me what you were going to say.” The swirl of uneasiness returned in her stomach. It was odd, having Percy as a dance partner. He was surprisingly graceful and agile on his feet, and he held her close enough she could feel his heart beat. It was… nice. He was warm, a comfort— but then Heather remembered where she was and who she was with. The song ended with the final note on the piano and Heather stepped away from Percy apprehensively, dropping her hands to her sides. 

“Heather? Are you alright?” Percy cocked his head and gently brushed some hair out of her face. “Do you need a drink of water?” 

“I- I need some air.” Heather was again surprised at the care Percy gave her. He led her outside to the corridor out of the Great Hall. They walked down to the front steps of the school and sat on the stairs. Heather slid her wings off and placed them next to her. Percy leaned back against the railing of the stairs and looked at Heather. She stared back without blinking.

There he was, in his Percy-like glory. Heather had never seen so many freckles on one face. Or eyes that were so sharp and intelligent and full of empathy. Lips so rosy, a nose so narrow—and Heather suddenly noticed that he was looking at her with the same sort of scrutiny. She broke her gaze and looked down at her fingers. 

“Heather?” 

She looked up, startled at the sound of her name in his mouth. 

“Yes, Percy?”

“You look… your hair looks lovely like that. And—and your eyes perfectly match your dress.”

Heather raised an eyebrow. “What’s with the sudden affirmation?” 

Percy winced and turned away. She grabbed his arm forcefully, intending to apologize, when he turned back to face her again, and she saw the trouble in his eyes. His mouth gaped, looking for lost words, and she when realized how incredibly close he was, he kissed her. It was nothing special, just a quick peck on the lips, but all the same it was a kiss. 

“Percy?” She touched her lips. “What the—? Why?” Her eyes were wide. 

“I—” Percy flushed a bright red. “I, uh…” He didn’t go on. Heather froze with her fingers on her cupid’s bow.

“Let’s just pretend that didn’t happen.” Heather quickly shook her head. She cast her eyes down. “It’s already forgotten.” 

“Of course it is.” Percy seemed downcast but Heather didn’t pay any mind to him. Whether it was because she was trying to wrap her mind around his kissing her, or because she didn't want to admit that she liked it, she didn't know.

“Because it didn’t happen.”

“Right.”

Their night had ended quickly after this. 

 

It had hurt Heather to say that the kiss was nothing. She knew deep down inside it made her stomach wiggle with butterflies. When the night was over and her friends asked her how her date with Percy went, all Heather could do was shrug. 

“It wasn’t even a date,” she said, arms crossed. “We danced and then we sat outside to discuss schoolwork.” 

Erica rolled her eyes. “It was a date for you two nerds, trust me.”

But Heather knew it wasn’t a true date. Dates were supposed to be romantic, with a fire crackling in a fireplace and sparkling water and a fancy dinner. A date was supposed to be wanted from both members of the party. A date was supposed to be a million other things than whatever happened between her and Percy. 

Heather didn’t dare tell anyone about how Percy kissed her— or how she secretly liked it. How she thought about it nonstop over the last two hours, how she was told she could tell him anything. And she wasn’t even lying about the schoolwork discussion. They made awkward small talk as they walked back to the Gryffindor Tower and school was the safest subject they could bring up. It was horrible and it made her skin crawl and she couldn’t help but want to kiss him again. She was glad when she got to the girls’ dorm and was able to leave him with an awkward handshake.

She didn’t tell anyone how she enjoyed dancing with Percy. She didn’t tell anyone how he had complimented her so many times. 

She didn’t tell anyone how she secretly had a great time with Percy Weasley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is bringing back SO many memories. I really hope you can see between the lines and see the caution, the carefulness the two are putting forth, and appreciate how gentle they are. Well, Heather isn't that gentle. I really love reading this story again and I'm so happy to be putting it back on the Internet for people to read. Anyway, I hope this is enjoyable for everyone!! Leave a Kudos if you like it, and leave a comment to let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!!


	4. November

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hogsmeade trip! And a Heather mood swing! It's exciting!

November  
It was a Hogsmeade day, the one Saturday of the month when Hogwarts students could shed their uniforms, don comfortable clothes, and go down the hill to visit the shops and pubs. The weather was snowy and bitingly cold that day, forcing everyone to wear their cloaks pulled tightly over their assortment of layered clothing against the cold, and tried, but failed miserably, to keep the chill out. The passing faces of the students could be seen with rosy cheeks and shivering lips; there was no wonder why nearly every Hogwarts student managed to squeeze themselves in the warm Three Broomsticks.  
“I’ll get the butterbeers!” Alyssa announced as she yanked the door open to the pub and vigorously rubbed her arms. She, Tina, Erica, and Heather entered the quaint pub; it seemed as though they had walked into a great wall of sound and laughter. Heather felt her nose start to defrost from the heated room packed with students. Alyssa pushed her way past a few third years and fought her way to the counter to where the barkeeper, the ever beautiful Madam Rosemerta, chatted with a seventh year. Heather turned her attention from her friend at the bar and gazed around the room.  
“There’s Oliver Wood! I’ll be right back,” Erica said, and ran off to where the Quidditch players sat. “Find us a table, yeah?” She ordered over her shoulder.  
Tina and Heather were left in the doorway, and the cold seeped in from the open door. Several of the unlucky students who were forced to sit at the tables near the door hissed angrily at the two to close it. Tina glared at the younger students before she shut the door with a snap and moved into the warmth of the pub and Heather behind her. The door opened a few moments later, and the students who sat near the door hissed like angry geese again.  
Meanwhile, while Tina gave the younger students at those unlucky tables dirty looks, Heather followed Erica with her eyes. She scanned the surface of the Quidditch players’ table and looked for familiar faces when a few stood out to her. There were the Weasley twins (those annoying little brats), Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, and two sixth years and three seventh years she recognized but didn’t know personally. Her gray eyes moved down towards the end of the table when a flash of red hair caught her eye. With a jolt she realized that Percy Weasley had been staring at her.  
Heather immediately felt self conscious and ran a hand over her bright pink hair; earlier that morning, while her hair was still wet, she made Tina French braid her hair. He had complimented her hair when it was like this the last time. Heather adjusted her gloves, thickly knitted gloves that she had bought impulsively only moments ago to ward off the chill. Percy didn’t know she had noticed him. He didn’t know that she could still feel the imprint of his lips on hers.  
Tina noticed the gaze from Percy and nudged Heather with a knowing smile. “Admit it.”  
Heather glared at her momentarily. “Admit what?” she asked, but she knew what was supposed to come next. She braced herself for the next sentence.  
“Percy fancies you, there’s no doubt about it.” Tina pulled Heather in the direction of a table where a group of Hufflepuffs were clearing out near the Quidditch players. She sat down at the now—empty table and indicated for Heather to join her. “Just accept it.”  
“No, he doesn’t.” Heather removed her gloves and gently placed them in her cloak pocket. She sat down across from Tina slowly. She saw Percy out of the corner of her eye. She pulled her braid over one shoulder and let it fall gracefully to her mid back. Heather discreetly ran a finger over a thin scar on her forearm; a reminder of her past, a reminder of her mother. She tore her eyes away from her arm and locked eyes with Tina. Tina reached forward with her hand and grasped Heather’s hand comfortingly. She was the only one of her friends who knew about her mother being sick. She heard footsteps behind her and quickly dropped Heather’s hand; Heather had requested Tina not to tell anyone of her mother’s illness. She gave Heather a sad smile before she straightened herself up.  
“He doesn’t what?” Erica strode back from the Quidditch table and plopped down next to Heather. She shook her head, “Never mind, I don’t want to know.” She turned to Tina. “Oliver said he definitely noticed a change.”  
Tina giggled and turned to look at the Quidditch table. The messy haired Keeper winked at Tina with a smirk upon his face. Erica nudged Tina from across the table none too softly and said, “Way to be conspicuous.” Erica rolled her eyes and Tina turned back around. Heather glared slightly at Oliver, who pretended as though he didn’t see her. Trust Oliver to act like a prat, Heather thought with a grim expression upon her face.  
“Sorry.” Tina chirped. But she didn’t look even the slightest bit sorry.  
“What’s going on?” Heather was impatient. For some reason, they’ve been doing this to her, ever since the Halloween party. They spoke in code, and more than once they would abruptly stop talking when Heather approached them. She had a suspicion on what (or rather, who) they would talk about, but she didn’t dare voice her thoughts on this matter.  
“Oh, nothing.” Erica said nonchalantly. Her tone of voice infuriated Heather. “So how was your last study session?” She smiled sweetly at Heather. Heather scowled.  
“It was fine.” It wasn’t, though.  
“Did anything… unusual happen?” Tina propped her chin in her hands. What are they playing at?  
“No.” She was lying... something did happen.

Percy held out the pen. “Now, when you want to list the properties of using a moonstone in a concealing draft, you have to start with the simplest one. Which would be…” he trailed off and waited for Heather to answer. She hadn’t moved since she sat down, not even to take the quill and parchment that he held out expectantly.  
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. She could hardly care less about the properties of using a moonstone in anything, to be honest.  
“Heather, at least pretend you’re paying attention.” Percy frowned peevishly. He pushed his horn rimmed glasses up his nose. Heather rolled her eyes.  
“Whatever, Percy.”  
Percy reached across the table and physically put the quill in her slender fingers. The second their fingers touched Percy felt as though he was hit with a ton of bricks. Heather glanced up at Ian with those blank eyes before she closed her hand around the pen. He let go of her hand slowly.  
He coughed awkwardly and shuffled his notes around before he spoke again, only now in a somewhat higher voice. “Write this down: ‘The properties of using a moonstone in a concealing draft are…”  
Heather could only stare at the creeping blush that snaked its way up Percy's neck as he droned on about moonstones. He pretended not to notice the way Heather looked at him. She could only look at his lips.

“Oh, take them, they’re hot!” Alyssa came out of nowhere with four steaming mugs of butterbeer. “The line at the counter was huge! I should have made you all stand in line with me.” The three girls were silent as they each grabbed a mug as Alyssa sat down. She held up her hands and Heather could see her hands were raw and already had little blisters that had formed on her palms. Heather looked into her mug of butterbeer and swirled it around with the end of a spoon, thinking of some enchantment she could cast to heal her friend’s hands.  
“Why don’t you cast a burn healing charm?” A voice from behind Alyssa said. Oh, no. Not him.  
Heather glanced up and all but spat out the sip she had taken. She sputtered and coughed violently as she observed the blurred outline of Percy Weasley between her squinted eyelids. Tina leaned across the table and slapped Heather on her back, but only made it worse.  
“Heather?” Alyssa asked. “Are you alright?”  
Percy watched Heather closely with concern written all over his face. It made her feel queasy, even queasier than she felt from choking and almost losing her lunch.  
“She’s fine.” Erica smirked. Heather shakily wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and earned a disapproving stare from a blonde Ravenclaw at the next table for her lack of manners. Heather’s cheeks were almost as pink as her hair.  
“Heather, are you sure you’re alright? Can you breathe?” Percy reached across the table and moved a stray lock of hair off her forehead. She allowed him; his hand felt cool against her heated temples. She closed her eyes and relished the feel of his hand against her skin. Someone in the distance dropped their mug and yanked Heather out of her reverie. The whole table stared at her when she opened her eyes. She pushed Percy's hand away quickly with a look of distaste upon her face. She had forgotten where she was— in public, surrounded by schoolmates and friends— and she didn’t even like Percy!  
The silence was so intense that when Oliver Wood came to their table to say hello he glanced at the red-faced Heather and the shocked faces of everyone else he calmly backed away and said, “This is definitely a bad time. I should uh… go now.”  
“No, you stay!” Erica pulled him back to the table. Oliver gave her a reproachful glare but all the same pulled up a chair.  
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Oliver muttered as he crossed his arms. Erica blushed and kissed his cheek. The sight of them sitting nearly on top of each other made Heather nearly want to vomit. She had to get away from them— all of them. Especially Percy.  
“I... have to go.” Heather stood hastily. She abandoned her coat in favor of leaving the pub as fast as she could and nearly pushed Madam Rosemerta over as she scrambled to the exit. She passed the group of students who hissed whenever the door opened. She heard Percy shout her name as she opened the door to a flurry of snow.  
The frozen matter floated delicately from the heavens and tangled itself in Heather’s hair. All Heather wanted was to get away from the Three Broomsticks as fast as she could, although she regretted how she left her cloak behind. She pulled her dark purple sweater closely around her and hoped to try and block out at least some of the cold. The pub doors opened as she sped away towards the direction of the clearing overlooking the Shrieking Shack.  
“Heather!” A familiar voice called. Heather groaned inwardly. She knew who it was— what could he want this time? She waited until he was close before she started to walk to the clearing in front of the cliffs. She stopped at the fence before the valley that sat at the foot of the cliffs. She peered over the edge to look at the ground a hundred feet down. Percy caught up to her and stood close behind her. Heather glanced at him.  
“What… what happened back there?” he asked bossily. He put his hands on his hips. “As a Prefect and a human being with feelings, I demand to know.”  
“Oh, as a Prefect, you say? I didn’t know you were a Prefect!” she said sarcastically. “You should have told me; I would have bowed down and worshipped you if I had known.” She rolled her eyes. She tapped his Prefect badge, which he had pinned to the collar of his cloak, with a sneer on her face.  
Percy puffed his chest out. “Heather, that was rude,” he said, and he frowned and pushed his glasses up his nose. She scowled.  
“Oh, rude, am I? Sorry if I ruffled some feathers, you see—I do enjoy making any rooster horribly irritated. And that’s what you are, Percy— a rooster who puffs his chest only to assert dominance. Is that why you’ve been making me go to study sessions with you?” her eyes were ablaze with a sudden fury.  
“I—no, Heather, of course not.” Percy looked down at the ground and rubbed his neck. “Where is this coming from? I just want you to do well and succeed in school.”  
If Heather was shocked by this answer, she didn’t show it. She instead replied curtly, “Well, why me?”  
“Excuse me?”  
“Oh, come on, Percy. You’re brighter than that. Why me? Why not anyone else? How come you only tutor me?”  
Percy was shocked. She could visibly see it— perhaps it was because Heather was never this rude or mean to him. Yes, she constantly put him down and mocked him, but never like this. Pink tendrils of hair blew slightly in the wind as she turned back to face the valley. Percy tried to make sense of what just happened.  
“Heather, what is wrong with you?” He asked. He brushed some hair off her shoulder. “I just wanted to help you. And get to know you. Is that so bad?”  
“Oh, so something is wrong with me now, eh?” she arched an eyebrow. She tried her best to ignore the last bit of what he said and focused on the tiny insult.  
“N—no, I didn’t say that—” Percy stuttered. He held his hands up in a mock surrender.  
“But. You. Did.” She poked his chest with each word. She huffed, the warm air created a small puff of heat in the cold winter air. She turned back to the valley without another word. She wanted him to leave—but of course, he didn’t. He just stood there and looked at her wide-eyed for a moment. Finally he looked down at something bundled in his hands and she felt a brief moment of shame at her outburst pass over her.  
“If you are going to stay out here then you might need this.” Percy held out her cloak. She stared at it for a second and grabbed it. She glanced at him, her eyebrows furrowed, as she threw the cloak around her shoulders silently. He waited for a word, any word, of gratitude. Something even as ‘get the hell out of my face’ would have been appreciated.  
“Thanks,” she muttered, meaning the tutoring. She refused to look at him but she got the idea that he knew what she meant.  
As he turned to look out at the valley below them, placing his hands close to hers on the bar of the railing, she knew that it was good enough for him. Something changed between them that night... something started to chip away at the wall Heather put around herself. Percy Weasley glanced over at her and he felt something start within him, something he knew could only grow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope the story is picking up for you! Leave a kudos or a comment! I'm so sorry but I can't figure out how to separate the paragraphs because I'm a tech-illiterate weenie!


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